


Courting Disaster

by ajstyling



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Constance is extra, F/F, Pining, ashen wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajstyling/pseuds/ajstyling
Summary: In a desperate bid to finally let Hapi know how she feels, Constance turns to an ancient book for helpful tips on how to properly court her. Things do not go as planned.
Relationships: Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle
Comments: 26
Kudos: 93
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Courting Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> I had the pleasure of working with Orange ([@blamedorange](https://twitter.com/blamedorange)) as part of the Rarepair 2020 Big Bang. You can see her spectacular illustration ([here](https://twitter.com/blamedorange/status/1301337971803656192?s=20))

“Hi, Hapi. It’s wonderful to see you again. Since, um, this morning. You look positively radiant this evening. Not that you didn’t look great this morning. Of course that’s not the only thing I notice about you. I really admire your sense of humor and how tough you are. Anyways... I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. I really enjoy eating meals. With you, that is. And it seems like you might enjoy it as well? This is really all to say that I like sharing meals and I like you and I’d like to keep doing that. If you want to, that is.”

Constance’s reflection stared back at her indignantly. She slumped forward with a sigh. Whoever said practices makes perfect was clearly full of it. She had been practicing her declarations of affection for the last hour and, despite her best efforts, they all sounded terrible. It was unbecoming for a noble of her status to struggle with a simple offer of courtship and surely Hapi would never accept such a meager proposal.

The faint sound of church bells ringing in the distance crept through the door of her room. With one final sigh she pulled herself together, crossed the room briskly, and yanked open the door with forced bravado. A surprised gasp escaped her lips as Yuri stumbled forward through the door where they had clearly been eavesdropping. Constance shifted from side-to-side as an uncomfortable silence settled on the room. 

“So—” Yuri started.

“Yuri,” she said. “In exchange for your help in restoring House Nuvelle, I ordinarily tolerate your less than savory behavior.”

“You know—”

“Silence, knave. If you don’t want to be incinerated, or unless the next words out of your mouth are the recipe to a love potion or reliable instructions for guaranteeing the affections of another, I am not interested.”

“Surely a noble of your status needs no help with declarations of affection,” Yuri said, each word dripping with sarcasm.

Constance folded her arms and glared. “I’ll have you know that I am well acquainted with the art of courting. As a lady of House Nuvelle, I was very familiar with the courting decorum of nobles and, of course, had many suitors.” She paused, eyes falling to the floor. “It’s just—been a while and I am not quite sure that Hap—every person is as well versed as me.”

Yuri made no efforts to hide their eye roll. “I really don’t have time for this. You would be better spent just reading a book or something. Goddess knows that’s never led you astray before.” 

“Of course,” Constance pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

* * *

It was five minutes to the fifth bell, Constance was exactly twenty-five minutes late to the dining hall, and the pile of books beside her resembled a small mountain. The mountain collapsed with a noisy thud under the weight of three more books that she threw haphazardly on top. Constance groaned and cast her eyes around the library, the absence of other students a welcome relief.

She turned her eyes back to the shelf in front of her and continued examining each book, yearning for the days when a servant might have done this task for her. Just as the pile of books littering the floor around her reached dangerous levels, Constance stumbled upon a wide, dusty book. She ran her hand over the leatherbound cover, wiping away the years of dust. She gasped as the dust faded away and the bevelled title became clear.

_Silent Declarations of Affection: A Lonely Noble’s Guide to Appropriate Courtship_

She held the book between her hands like it was the lost relic of Dromi. At that moment, she couldn’t possibly decide which she valued more. Of course, If Hapi were a traditional noble, the book would hardly be necessary. Whatever Yuri might think, Constance knew herself to be a master of all the noble arts, including courtship. But Hapi was coarse, unrefined...relaxed, charming, beautiful, mesmerizing... Her imagination ran wild with the image of Hapi tracing her tongue across her bottom lip, not yet ready to be finished with a sumptuous meal. 

A pang of longing filled her and without another moment of hesitation, Constance flipped open the book—her eagerness overwhelming her doubts. She read the first page, each word a treasure and a promise to Constance. Then she read another. And another. Constance finally looked up from the book, when cathedral bells rang seven times in the distance. 

Constance cursed, slammed the book shut, and recited what advice she could remember to herself as she made her way to the dining hall before it closed for the day.

* * *

> _Silent Declarations of Affection: A Lonely Noble’s Guide to Appropriate Courtship_ , pg 7:  
>  **All nobles are well acquainted with the virtues of honeyed words, but when words will not suffice a truly wise noble may turn toward honeyed treats.**

Constance burst through the dining hall doors the next afternoon with the wide, dusty book and a small parcel tucked under one of her arms. She strode purposefully toward the table in the back corner where Hapi sat beside two plates of food, one more conspicuously empty than the other.

“Mmf, i Corcor. Hoff’re roo?” Hapi said, a small crumb tumbling from her mouth and landing in her cleavage

Constance’s eyes slipped downward, trailing the crumb along its journey and lingering on the bit of exposed skin where the crumb landed. A warm flush colored her cheeks before she snapped her eyes upward. She shook her head and cleared her throat. There would be time for carnal pleasure later, she reminded herself. 

“Hapi, I do not have the faintest idea what you’re saying,” she paused, reciting the book’s instruction to herself. “But your dining etiquette is besides the point. I come bearing a gift.” She pushed the parcel toward Hapi.

Hapi swallowed the rest of her food and unwrapped the parcel, revealing a few pieces of baklava. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?” 

Constance shifted on the balls of her feet. “Must there be an occasion to bestow sweet treats upon someone such as yourself?”

“Okay,” Hapi shrugged and stuffed one of the pieces of baklava straight into her mouth.

Constance watched her chew, rapt, and tried to recall what the book told her to do next. She remembered it being particularly vague about how exactly the sweets would convey her affections. “So—”

“Dif if deliffsh,” Hapi interrupted her, more crumbs spilling from her mouth. 

Constance stood a bit straighter, letting Hapi’s praise wash over her. This might be easier than she expected. “Thank you, Hapi. It was my first time making this recipe, but, as you know, I never settle for anything but the absolute best. Though I must admit that I find your consumption methods to be rather coarse. Wouldn’t you rather savor the flavor?”

Hapi swallowed and shrugged before responding. “There’s no point in wasting time in enjoying something this good.”

“But surely something so refined deserves to be savored,” Constance folded her arms across her chest and shot back.

Hapi shrugged again. “While you’re savoring the flavor I’m going to have another piece.” She promptly grabbed a second piece and stuffed it in her mouth.

Constance waited patiently. Hapi’s response to the first piece was hardly romantic, but Constance was nothing if not patient. Surely, the second piece would appropriately convey her romantic designs. She folded her hands behind her back and watched as Hapi chewed with only slightly less vigor than last time. 

“Wa?” Hapi asked without bothering to stop chewing. “If der somfin on meh fae?” Flakes of honey spilled from her mouth, floating to the ground like fresh snow. 

“Of course there’s something on your face,” Constance snapped before remembering herself and, more importantly, her objective here. She affixed Hapi with the most amorous look she could manage—the book hadn’t specified this step but she suspected it couldn’t hurt.

Hapi swallowed and her eyebrows furrowed. “Is it that bad? You look like you’re in pain.” She wiped at her face with her sleeve, and Constance forced back a gasp at such ignoble behavior. The crumbs scattered from her sleeve to the table below them.

“Of course not, Hapi. Your face is the farthest thing from painful. In fact, I might even say that your face is...quite...ameliorable.” Constance beamed, words spilling out like the crumbs from Hapi’s mouth. Her natural, noble charm came in handy once again. She wasn’t used to offering others such effusive praise, but Hapi deserved it. 

Hapi swallowed the last bit of her sweet. “I’m not sure what that means, Coco, but thanks for the dessert!” 

“Certain—”

In the distance, cathedral bells—quickly becoming the bane of Constance’s existence—interrupted her with eight loud gongs.

“I’m sorry, Coco, but the sun’s getting pretty low and I’ve got an appointment with my bed,” Hapi said.

Constance stamped her foot. “Now wait just one min—” But Hapi was gone before the words could even leave her mouth, Abyss and the privacy of her room awaiting her.

A sigh slipped past Constance’s lips. Her baklava recipe was perfect, she knew it, but somehow Hapi missed the meaning behind the honeyed treat. She sat down at the table and cracked open the book once again. The pages sprawled open before her with countless more helpful suggestions. A reinvigorated determination settled in her bones. 

The final piece of baklava sat untouched on the table beside her, but there was no silverware in sight. She cast her eyes slowly around the dining hall. Once sure that no one was watching, she stuffed the piece in her mouth, honeyed flakes lingering on the tips of her fingers long after the pastry was gone. Hapi had much to learn about being a noblewoman, but, Constance admitted, her eating methods were quite effective.

* * *

> _Silent Declarations of Affection: A Lonely Noble’s Guide to Appropriate Courtship_ , pg 51: **Flowers are intimately linked with the art of romance. A nobleman who wishes to be likewise linked with the object of his affections ought to maintain a comprehensive knowledge of the floral arts and be well versed in bestowing flowers upon desirable maidens.**

The sun dipped below the horizon and dread pooled in the pit of Constance’s stomach. Few things inspired as much apprehension as the door she pressed her hand against. Behind it stood the monastery greenhouse, a disgusting bastion of dirt, sunlight, and, worst of all, bugs. Her years spent in the Abyss were blissfully absent of any trip to this wretched location, but desperate times called for desperate measures— _noble_ , desperate measures.

With a grimace, she pushed the wide double doors open. Muggy air rushed to meet her as she stepped into the room. Her leery eyes flitted from side-to-side. Rhea most likely wouldn’t appreciate an Agnea’s Arrow destroying the entire greenhouse, but Constance was ready to live with the consequences should one of the vile insect creatures think to attack her.

The humidity was stifling and the fragrance of the flowers overwhelming. As beads of sweat dripped down Constance’s face, she bemoaned the fact that the book’s advice didn’t involve procuring rare books, but pushed further in until she stood before the plot at the back of the greenhouse. Her vision filled with the reds, yellows, greens, and lavenders of countless different flowers. _How does one go about developing a comprehensive knowledge of the floral arts_ , Constance mused to herself.

A scarlet, fringe-petaled flower near the front of the garden caught her eyes. She bent down gingerly and delighted in the sweet scent of the flower. She beamed to the empty greenhouse, a silent boast of her noble virtue shining through once more in guiding her to the correct flower. 

_What if Hapi hates this flower?_ The thought crept into her mind unbidden. They never found time to discuss each other’s floral preferences before and perhaps the sweet smell would be overwhelming to her? Would this color of red compliment or clash with Hapi’s hair? 

Her hand stilled around the thin green stem as the questions weighed on her mind. The book was disappointingly unspecific on what flower best conveyed affection, perhaps this flower symbolized eternal platonic friendship? 

The thought barely crossed her mind when she felt eight tiny legs scitter across her wrist. She looked down and gasped as a silvery white spider clambered over her wrist and made its way up her arm. A piercing screech rang through the air. Constance only half-registered it as her own screams as she dropped the flower and tore back through the greenhouse. She slammed open the door without even sparing a thought for which spell she might use to vanquish the loathsome insect. 

Her dash through the door came to an abrupt halt as she slammed into a muscular chest that she didn’t remember being there before. She clambered up from the ground and opened her mouth—ready to give this fool a stern lesson on why preventing Constance, of the Great House Nuvelle, from fleeing insects was a poor choice. 

“Constance,” Balthus boomed, “you’ve really gotta watch where you’re going!”

The harsh words died on her lips, settling for an exasperated sigh. “I’ll have you know, you big oaf, that I am perfectly capable of looking and ambulating at the same time.”

Balthus scratched his head, then gave her a small shrug. “I’ll have to take your word for that. By the way, what are you doing in the greenhouse?”

Constance's voice cracked and her cheeks flushed pink. “Must a noble of my stature need a reason to take in the resplendence of the flowers?”

Balthus quirked an eyebrow. “I thought most of them were just carrots to be honest, but I’m glad to see you enjoying nature more!”

“Yes, well I really must be going, Balthus.” Constance stepped to the side, ready to brush past him. 

“Does your interest in nature have anything to do with that funny book you left in the inn?” 

His words froze her to the spot. “I’m afraid I don’t know which book you are speaking of,” Constance squeaked. 

“It’s the one about lonely nobles!”

Her face burned. “I-I think you must be mistaken. I’ve never heard of such a book.” 

“Huh,” Balthus said, “I thought for sure I saw you leave it, but I guess not.”

“It happens to the best of us.” Constance patted his elbow, before she lowered her voice, “Out of curiosity, though, where exactly did you see the book? Not that I care, but it would probably be wise to return it to the owner.”

Balthus grinned. “No need to worry about that, Constance! Hapi picked up the book while we were having drinks an—”

“What?” Constance yelled. Her face continued to burn, but a chill ran down her spine. “Hapi has the book?”

Balthus shook his head. “Nah, she had to leave early and get to bed. She gave it to Yuri before she left. I’m sure they'll make sure it gets back to its owner.”

“I’m quite sure they will,” Constance muttered under her breath. She stormed off without another word

* * *

Constance didn’t have to search far. She found Yuri lounging on their bed, the book she spent the last several nights pouring over opened across their chest. 

She jabbed a finger in their direction and said, “Now you listen here—”

“An honorable and virtuous nobleman may prove the depth of his devotion and affection through properly performed feats of ingenuity and strength,” Yuri interrupted, each word dripping with sarcasm.

She flushed bright red. “Give that here.”

“You know,” Yuri smirked, “when I suggested reading a book, I didn’t think you would take me so literally.”

Constance crossed her arms and ground her teeth. “The literature I consume in my free time is none of your business.”

“And here I was hoping we could start a bookclub together.”

“I do not have time for such trivialities, return my book this instant.”

The smirk on Yuri’s face grew larger. “Are you sure? I think a book club might be very interesting. I bet even Hapi would join us.” 

“T-That won’t be necessary,” Constance squeaked. “Just give me the book and get out before I turn you into a…a… a licorice boot.”

“Fine,” Yuri sighed and closed the book. They sat up and held the book toward her. 

Constance snatched the book from their hands before tucking it protectively beneath one arm. Her eyes sent daggers at Yuri as they made their way across the room toward the door. They stopped a step outside the door and turned back toward Constance. “Look, it’s not really my business—”

“You are quite right, Yuri,” Constance said firmly, “it is none of your business.”

Yuri sighed again, but continued, “That book is rubbish. What are you going to do? Stand in the sun for months? Write ten thousand love letters? Challenge another suitor to a duel?”

“Well, I haven’t really gotten that far,” Constance muttered.

“Hapi’s been eating dinner with you. Alone. For months.” They rubbed at the bridge of their nose with obvious exasperation. “She always wants to fight next to you and I once watched her stay up hours past her curfew to help you find more coffee. You don’t need a book, Constance.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Well, since you’re in a mood to offer unsolicited advice, what would you say I need?”

“Oh for goddess sake, just talk to her.” They didn’t wait for a response before turning and walking swiftly away down the hallway. 

Constance fumed. What an undignified, ignorant, busybody. What could they possibly know about courtship rituals? They are lucky she didn’t obliterate them where they stood. Her mind lingered on their words, though, standing in the sun was certainly out of the question—Hapi would surely not find a sniveling mess to be attractive—but what had Yuri said about letters?

She opened the book and flipped rapidly through the pages until her eyes alighted on the page she needed. This could work, she mused to herself.

> _Silent Declarations of Affection: A Lonely Noble’s Guide to Appropriate Courtship_ , pg 69: **There is no method of communication able to duplicate the properties of a written declaration of desire and affection. A nobleman will find that letters often reach the heart faster than spoken words.**

* * *

~~Dear Hapi,~~ ~~My Dearest Hapi~~ ~~Dear Friend~~ To Whom it May Concern,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. The weather has been quite amenable of late. I write to inform you that our latest meal together gladdened my being. Should you be amenable to it, I wish to continue these meals with you indefinitely, though perhaps under different auspices. I would like to discuss these possible differences with you at your earliest convenience.

Constance

* * *

My Dearest Hapi,

I hope you will forgive the presumption of calling you my dearest. I only mean to say that you are a dear friend. Which is not to say that we need only remain dear friends. We could be dear best friends, or perhaps more. Not that you would need to call me dearest, just Coco would be fine. 

Coco

* * *

~~Hapi,~~

~~You may not be familiar, but of the many noble arts many consider courtship to be the greatest. Courtship is a relationship of sorts. That is to say, an intimate relationship. That is to say, that it is a chance for two people to acquaint themselves with the other, in an effort to determine if there might be an official engagement.~~

~~Of course, courting need not be a dull affair. For some it may include meals together, such as the meals we already share. If you catch my meaning. Occasionally, courting has been known to include more sensual activities, if both parties are amenable to such acts.~~

~~I do believe this information to be relevant to you for reasons that I hope this letter has made clear. I look forward to your correspondence.~~

~~Constance of House Nuvelle~~

* * *

To the Esteemed Hapi of House Abyss

I write this letter with the most heartfelt wish that you are in excellent health. 

I dearly enjoyed the dessert we shared the other day. You are an endearing and loveable woman. Your intelligence and wit have captured my heart. It would be my greatest honor to enter into a mutually agreeable courtship with you, for the honor of House Nuvelle and the happiness of both of us. 

Though I have no dowry to offer, I offer my word that once House Nuvelle is restored to its former glory you shall want for nothing. All of the fineries and delicacies of the world I shall lay at your feet.

Please write to me at your earliest convenience to let me know if you find this proposal agreeable.

Constance of House Nuvelle.

* * *

Hapi,

I like you and would very much like to never eat a meal without you. I don’t know if you feel the same. 

Constance

* * *

Constance stared down at the paper in front of her, a series of crossed out greetings sat at the top of the page with nothing else written below them. The discarded attempts at writing letters to Hapi lay scattered across the desk in her room. Each one felt off. Too formal. Too open. Too vague. None conveyed the truth of her feelings for Hapi. 

_Silent Declarations of Affection_ sat beside a mostly blank piece of paper. But, simply put, the book was running out of helpful ideas. With a hopeless sigh she flipped through the book, searching for any options still left to her. Jewelry, poetry, petitioning one’s parents—each idea left Constance more dejected than the last. She flipped and flipped pages until she arrived at the final page of the book. Her eyes grew large as she read the books’ final suggestion:

> _Silent Declarations of Affection: A Lonely Noble’s Guide to Appropriate Courtship_ , pg 145: **In the event that more than one nobleman expresses interest in the same person, they may settle the debate accordingly through the ancient art of dueling till the death. In the case of close friends, they may choose to maim instead of kill.**

Constance stroked her chin thoughtfully. Hapi was exceptional. Constance had no doubt other suitors were vying for her affection. What’s more, Constance knew herself to be an accomplished magician. Winning a duel would be second nature. All she needed was to learn the identity of Hapi’s other suitor. The rest would take care of itself.

* * *

Constance moved through the pathways of Abyss with a determined gait. She had spent the day interrogating everyone she could for information on Hapi’s other suitors. If she was to duel for her affection, she would need to be prepared. Unfortunately, most of the dullards offered her little more than a headshake and a grin that hinted at knowing something that she didn’t. Yuri simply shouted, “Just talk to her!” without even bothering to open their door. 

She was not to be deterred. She just needed a name and then Hapi’s affection would be hers—after slightly maiming the other suitor, of course. 

Abyss proved unfruitful, so she moved to leave and wander the monastery at large. Perhaps one of the wrabble upstairs was vying for Hapi’s affection. As she rounded the corner to Abyss’s exit, she stopped in her tracks. A few feet in front of her, Hapi leaned against a wall, laughter bubbling from her mouth as she spoke with the Abysskeeper. 

All at once, it clicked into place for Constance. Her rival for Hapi’s affection was none other than the man in charge of protecting Abyss’s entrance. She almost pitied him. Nothing could possibly prepare him for the onslaught to come. Still, another Abysskeeper, while difficult to come by, was not impossible and there was only one Hapi. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then strode confidently toward where they spoke.

She nearly faltered as Hapi looked up from her conversation and gave her a wide grin. “Hi, Coco! I was just on my way to go and grab some lunch if—”

“And I presume this knave was going to join you?” Constance gestured toward the Abysskeeper.

Hapi raised one brow. “Umm, no. I was just about to invite you.”

“Oh,” Constance blushed. “Well, I would be delighted to join you, but I must deal with some unpleasant business first.”

“Need any help?” Hapi offered.

Constance shook her head. “I am afraid that my honor as a noble compels me and me alone to handle this business, plus it would hardly be in keeping with the spirit of the event for you to side with one party before the duel even commences.”

“You’re dueling someone?” Hapi asked, growing confusion plain to see on her face. 

“I’m afraid it’s the only way after the mishaps with the baklava, flowers, and letters.”

“So who's the unlucky opponent?”

“I thought I made that abundantly clear,” Constance folded her arms across her chest and glanced meaningfully between Hapi and the Abysskeeper. 

A thick silence settled around them, confusion still present on Hapi’s face. “You’re dueling me?” 

“Don’t be daft! Why would I be dueling you?”

“Why would you be dueling anyone?” Hapi countered. 

Constance sighed. This was going horribly off script. “It’s the only option. Everything else failed.” Without another word, Constance turned toward the Abysskeeper. She drew magic to herself, lighting crackling at the tips of her fingers. “Do you agree to the bounds of a duel as laid out in Farley’s _Ten Duel Commandments_?” 

The Abysskeeper’s eyes went as large as saucers. “I don’t know what that is and I definitely don’t agree to it.”

“Ohohohoho,” her eyes narrowed, “too cowardly to duel for the affections of your love?”

He scratched at this chin. “Mr. Backup wants me to prove my affection by dueling you?”

“What?” The lightning fizzled out. “Why would he send me to duel you?”

“That’s what we’re all wondering,” Hapi muttered.

“Look, I really do love him, but I don’t think having you turn me to a pile of ash will prove that any more than me just telling him.” Abysskeeper said.

Constance froze. Her cheeks burned and she found herself unable to drag her eyes up from the floor. “I—” she swallowed and tried to compose herself. “I must offer my humblest apology. There has been a grave error on my part.”

“Whose affection did you think you were dueling for?” Hapi asked.

For perhaps the first time ever, Constance found herself entirely devoid of words. She looked at Hapi once, finding confusion and amusement written over her face. Shame compelled her from the hallway, sprinting toward her room without sparing a glance back.

She tore through the door, slamming it shut behind her. She ripped the stupid book from her desk where it sat. Without a second thought, she snapped her fingers and set the thing ablaze. No other poor fool would suffer the book’s drivel. She threw herself on the bed. Tears ran down her face as embarrassment gave way to frustration and disappointment. The chances of ever having a meal with Hapi again seemed slim to none. 

Some nobles are destined for a solitary existence, Constance mused to herself. Time lost all context as she laid on her bed, reflecting on her missteps. After what might have been a few minutes, or perhaps a few hours, Constance heard a soft knock on her door. Constance could not face anyone else, not like this. “Please go away,” she said.

“Coco,” Hapi called softly through the door. “May I come in?” She paused for a second. “I know you missed lunch, but I’ve brought dessert.”

Constance groaned. She knew it would come down to this. Hapi was here to hold Constance to account for all her failed attempts. The dessert would be sad compensation for her feelings being unrequited. Still, she vowed to handle this disappointment with far more honor and nobility than the failed duel.

She sat up from the bed and carefully wiped the tears and snot from her face with a handkerchief. “You may enter,” she called out once she felt presentable.

Hapi pushed open the door. Her eyes scanned the room taking in the crumpled pieces of paper as well as the small mound of ash that sat beside Constance’s desk. She smiled lightly, but made no comment as she walked into the room and set a small tray of fruit tarts on the edge of the bed before taking a seat between them and Constance. 

“So, you’ve been acting a little strange these past couple days.” Hapi said. “Well, stranger than normal,” she added as an afterthought. “Want to talk about it?”

Constance stared at a spot on the floor in front of her. “There is nothing to talk about. My noble demeanor has faltered as a cause of my own failures.”

Hapi gave an exaggerated glance around the room. “Did you put a window in this room without telling anyone?”

“Huh?”

“Did you find a way to shrink the sun and now you’re storing it in the corner of your room?”

Constance looked up from the floor, nonplussed. “What on earth are you talking about, Hapi?”

Hapi slid one of the pastries off the plate and onto Constance’s lap. “I’m having a hard time thinking of why else you would be talking about ‘your failures.’”

Constance wanted to refuse the pastry, she didn’t need or want pity. Her stomach had other ideas, grumbling involuntarily. She groaned but took a small nibble, the raspberry filling spilled from the fruit tart into her mouth and she sighed. A pang of disappointment mixed with pleasure as she realized that Hapi knew her well enough to obtain her favorite flavor. If only Constance had been able to live up to her and provide more suitable courting efforts.

“There is no sun in this room,” Constance said between bites. “The failure is my own this time. I was unable to prove myself worthy of a treasured individual.” She finished the pastry and set her hands back in her lap. 

“Maybe you’ve been going about it the wrong way,” Hapi remarked. 

“I’ve tried every imaginable way,” Constance said, frustration biting at each word.

Her cheeks burned as Hapi slipped her hand across the bed and rested it on top of Constance’s. “Have you tried just telling her how you feel?”

Constance fumbled for words, still unable to look at Hapi. “That hardly seems noble,” she muttered at last.

Hapi brought her other hand over, pinning Constance’s hands between her own. “With someone as pretty as you, the nobility is just a nice bonus.”

Constance’s gaze snapped to Hapi, her cheeks still burning and her stomach doing odd little flips at the words. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Uh huh,” Hapi leaned her face closer. “You know what else I think?”

Constance swallowed, her rapid heartbeat pounding in her ears as Hapi drew herself a hair's breadth away. Her eyes flickered between Hapi’s eyes and her lips. “What do you think?” she managed at last.

“I think you probably taste like a raspberry fruit tart.” She closed the distance between them and stopped Constance from responding with a kiss.

Constance’s lips were hard in shock, surprised that her secret feelings were reciprocated, but her mouth softened quickly under Hapi’s. Hapi let her hands go and Constance mourned the loss of touch, but before she could whine or sigh, Hapi weaved her fingers through her hair and pulled her deeper into the kiss. 

Constance felt a new type of burn as Hapi drew her tongue past her lips. After a minute? An hour? An eternity? Hapi pulled back and Constance inhaled breathlessly—only the sound of their ragged breaths between them.

“I was right,” Hapi said.

“About what?” Constance managed between breaths.

“You do taste like raspberry fruit tarts,” Hapi said before she pushed Constance down against the bed and brought their lips together once more.

Several hours later, when Constance could think coherently again, she realized that books were highly overrated.

**Author's Note:**

> stan hapistance for all time. This fic was impossibly difficult to write, but I'm glad that I've finally written this wonderful ship. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> scream with me about hapistance and other weeb stuff: ([@ajstyyling](https://twitter.com/ajstyyling))


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